Andreas: When I was about six years old I wanted to become an architect.
I kept that up until I was eightteen. I even informed where one could
be trained to become an architect, while I knew in the back of my head
that I wanted something different. The math required for the
education was thus a good reason to hook off. Then I told my parents:
"I want to make comic books." To my amazement my father replied:
"All right, if that's what you want to do, do it."
My mother was worried, because her father had been a painter and had
never had much money. That had always caused problems. But she herself
had always dreamt of a career as an actrice. Her father -
even an artist himself - had turned down that ambition and forced
her to become a doctor. Hence she responded with:
"I will do it differently than my father. If you want to
make comics, go ahead."
I was really lucky. I don't know if I could have done it without
my parents. They paid for my education at Saint-Luc at Brussels,
the only place I know where to learn the trade.

Andreas: In 1969 I went to Scotland with friends.
Three years ago I went back with my wife and daughter.
It was really what I was looking for. When I go to Scotland
I feel like I'm coming home. That's where I can feel at home:
the landscape, the weather, a certain athmosphere. And that has
nothing to do with ghosts and castles. It's just the climate,
the landscape. It 's not too much and not too little,
it's very attractive. Once I saw a picture of Scotland,
in which you can see a mountain on whose foot stands a small house,
completely lost in the landscape. That is my ideal. I once told myself:
if I have enough money, I'll buy such a house there,
in such a deserted corner of the world. These abandoned places appeal
to me. Or exactly the contrary: the heart of a big city.
Saint-Brieuc, where I moved to, was alas a compromise between the two.
Rennes, where I live now, becomes me more.